Darkness
by Veikko
Summary: The prologue to a work in progress called "Darkness". The story is about the history of my in-game character, his family, and his ventures within Azeroth. Notable characters are property of Blizzard Entertainment, the rest you don't know are mine.
1. Prologue

Darkness

Prologue

I. Am. Veikko.  
>I have been called many names.<br>Veikko the Machine.  
>Veikko the Obliterator.<br>Veikko the Rimewraith  
>The Dreadnaught of Frost.<br>The God of Death.

For years, I followed in darkness.  
>Betrayed by my brothers in arms.<br>Forced to follow the absolute rule of my creator.  
>Arthas.<br>The Lich King.

My brother, Malvakai, and I were once students of the Light; proud sons of Lordaeron; students under the first Paladin, Uther the Lightbringer, the courier of the Light. My brother served beside the son of our King, the favored prince of all; Arthas Menethil. As Paladins of the Silver Hand, I looked up to my brother and Arthas. I wanted to be like them one day. I wanted to be the blessed guardian of my people.

One day, Arthas left. No one knew what had become of the prince; all feared him dead. However, he did return. He returned with the dread runeblade, Frostmourne; a testament to his new powers; the unholy wrath that had penetrated his pious reason. The Lich King had taken over Arthas, and with this corruption, Arthas began his war against the living world.

Arthas murdered his own father. He murdered Uther, a man much like a father to him. However, when he began his march on Dalaran and other bastions of human life, his reach didn't end there.

Driven mad by masked voices, the Paladins turned on our friends and family. My brother was brutally tortured, maimed, then murdered and desecrated, just as the rest of our family; our parents and sister.

I was able to get loose and, in cold blood, murdered our captors. However, the disgrace of not being able to save my family, my holy brother, was too much for me to bear.

I gouged out my own eyes, so that I would never have to see their mutilated bodies even in the afterlife.

I cut out my own tongue, so that I would never have to explain to my family why I couldn't help them sooner.

Then I committed suicide, for I thought myself unworthy of Uther's teachings or my brother's love.

I was awoken. However, it was not what I had hoped. My family was not there. My friends were not around. The Light did not embrace me.  
>Anger.<br>Sadness.  
>Vengeance. Yes, this is what gripped my torn soul. The icy tendrils of dark magic tore through my body, dragging me from the world of the dead back to life. Energy poured into my body, giving me sight once again. However, I quickly realized I had not been resurrected by a fellow Paladin or any other vessel of the Light.<br>I was brought to being once again by pure evil, as an abomination; a mockery of life. I was a Forsaken; an Undead. It was only when I awoke did I realize who had raised me.

Arthas had summoned me to be one of his chosen few. A Death Knight. A Harbinger of Evil.  
>I stared up at him. His glare met my magical sight. The bastard smiled.<p>

"Veikko.. You will be my Champion."

It has been almost 15 years since that dreaded day; 4 years since my liberation from Arthas' rule. I remember his gaze; that smirk. I remember most, however, the day I was a tool in his destruction; the day Arthas met his end; the day my family was freed from the magical prison of Frostmourne.

It has been a very long time, but for once, I feel a small measure of peace.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any character's other than the ones I or my friends have created. All other places, names, characters, and instances are owned by Blizzard Entertainment.**

Chapter One – We Are Brothers

The sun had begun to creep over the horizon as the young boy stirred from his dreams. The golden rays that shone over the snow tipped peaks of the Alterac Mountains painted the youth's face with warmth. Outside, large flakes of snow dotted the skyline, covering the ground in a crisp white powder. The large pine trees that were scattered across the landscape drooped and swayed with the strain of snow and ice clinging to their branches. The boy flailed under the comfort of his pelt blanket, not wanting to greet the day just yet. The familiar smells of morning wafted into his room; the aroma of burning hickory and pine in the fireplace, the sharp smell of simmering bacon and sausages, and the pleasant scent of baking bread rallied his senses. Veikko's ice blue eyes burst open as he leapt from his bed, nearly tripping over his clothes that were scattered throughout the room he shared with his siblings. The other beds were empty, he noticed as he regained his balance. The boy, barely fifteen winters old, was considered brawny for his age. His muscular build neatly filled out his form; broad bundles of sinewy muscles wrapped around every portion of his body, their strength masked by his youth. He gazed about the room, looking for his brother and sister, but heard the familiar commotion in the next room of his family fixing breakfast. Not wanting to miss his chance for bacon, he quickly threw on his woolen breeches and robe and sprinted to the living room.

The house itself was quaint, furnished with strong log fortified walls, hardwood floors, and a large stone fireplace. The windowpanes were caked in frost, signaling the presence of winter. As he walked through the house, passing by the carved wooden furniture, Veikko stopped at a mounted sword on the wall; the sword "Lightcaller" that belonged to his grandfather, to say a small prayer. His grandfather had perished years before during the war against the orcish Horde, and though his life was lost, his extraordinary contributions to the Alliance had not only saved thousands of lives but also made his family well known. After his moment of reverie, Veikko continued to the great room. There he met his family, already eating and conversing about the events happening this day. Ignoring the bits of conversation he couldn't understand, he made his way to the main table where he fixed himself a hearty helping of porridge, bacon, and apples. Veikko took his place at the family dining table and joined in the discussion as he stuffed a strip of bacon into his mouth.

This morning was a special morning. Veikko's older brother, Malvakai, was to begin his training to become a Paladin; one of the highest honors that could be bestowed upon a son of Lordaeron. The Knights of the Silver Hand were the elite fighting force of the Alliance. Only a selected few were allowed within their ranks. They were trained in many arts of combat including swordsmanship, defensive tactics, horsemanship, and hand to hand combat. The Paladins however weren't just any other soldiers. They were a blessed group, gifted with powers from The Light, their beacon of hope, their faith. These powers were utilized for many purposes including healing the sick as well as harming their foes. Harnessing the given powers of The Light, as well as tempering their bodies for combat was the ultimate challenge for any soldier stalwart enough to be recruited into Paladin training. The training was mentally and physically grueling and would take a toll on his body, mind and soul, but, as with all men before him, he was ready for the challenge. Veikko shifted in his chair and listened more intently to the conversation, eager to know what his brother would be learning, ever envious.

Malvakai and Veikko had been born only a few years apart, but that didn't stop the two boys from competing in everything; age didn't matter to them, even when it came down to physical feats, academics, or girls. Both of them strived for excellence in whatever they put their mind to. This talent began to pay off when the two of them began combat training with their father and friends. Alone, the two were indomitable; they were quick, powerful, and precise, but when paired together, they were unstoppable. Malvakai and Veikko both strived to condition their own bodies to the task at which they had at hand. Countless times they would race to and from the distant Tarren Mill, sprinting over the hilly, green terrain, only stopping for a breath and water from one of the nearby streams. However, endurance wasn't the only thing they competed in. The simple mind game, chess, was also a focus for their competitiveness. Malvakai, being the tactical mind, usually won these games. However, when the contest moved from brains to brute force, Veikko quickly took the lead. Together, the boys were a perfect fighting pair.

"There's a lot more to being a Paladin than just fighting and praying," said their father, as his voice deepened into a serious tone. "You must learn to control your senses, harness your own fears and allow the Light to show you the way. It's not an instrument, rather a teacher whom we all learn from. You and your brother both, Malvakai, will carry on our family's tradition." Their father was a large, muscular man; every bit the warrior his father before him was. His bold black beard wrapped itself around his lips and strong jaw line, showing small hits of silver from age as did his short, crew cut hair. Malvakai folded his porridge into itself with his spoon, as he stared into it. The young man, who turned nineteen winters old a few days before hand was lithe but built for his training; his lean, tanned figure was offset by his short cut black hair. His deep green eyes stared deep into his bowl, contemplating the task ahead of him. He knew his family, maybe even all of Lordaeron, would be counting on him to carry on the family tradition. Veikko was aware of this huge burden, and understood the strain Mal was feeling; like everyone was watching him; judging him.

"I understand, father," Malvakai said, as he stood from the table. He donned his overcoat and kissed his mother goodbye. He nodded towards his father and Veikko, and then walked out the front door, slowly shutting it behind him. Veikko sat there, speechless. He thought that Malvakai would be excited for his chance to show Lordaeron how strong of a soldier he could be. This is what Mal always wanted. Yet, Veikko understood the weight this honor carried. He wanted to be there for Mal, and support him. Veikko stuffed the last few slices of bacon into his mouth, grabbed his greatcoat and dashed out into the newly fallen snowdrift. Their father and mother sat silently as their youngest child, Melani, tried to make herself her own breakfast. After the bowl was knocked over by her childish grace, their mother, Allenia stood up and began to clean up the mess.

"How can the Paladins start training their recruits so young, Alex," Allenia asked her husband as she scooped porridge off the table into the bowl to be thrown away. "I mean, I understand we could go back to war at any moment, and we need the military strength, but dammit they are barely old enough to saddle their own horses! How can they hope to defend our home from those brutes?"

"It's how it's always been, my love," Alexander responded, his brow furrowing in frustration. "The Silver Hand has always chosen the brightest and strongest boys to serve amongst their ranks. Malvakai will take his place soon enough, as will Veikko. Uther will have his hands full, yes, but he is a man of great patience. Not to mention, Uther will also be training young Prince Arthas. I'm sure the boys will do fine," he finished with a kind smile. Alexander stood from his chair and lifted his daughter into the air, as she squealed in delight. Allenia stood from her seat and admired her husband for a moment. Although the boys were being thrust into this role, she knew they would excel and exceed everyone's expectations. After all, they were the grandsons of one of the greatest Paladins the Alliance had ever known.

Veikko found Malvakai standing in the small stables their family owned, brushing his white stallion, Aetherwind. Veikko lead his own stallion, Colossus, to where Malvakai was and began to groom the massive black draft horse. The two stood for a while, grooming their mounts, in silence before Malvakai spoke.

"Mom and Dad are worried about us, Veik. We are young, but we have to step into our roles, regardless. I'd love to be running down the path to go fishing with the other kids, but," his voice trailed off as he stopped brushing Aetherwind. "I want this, more than anything. I'm going to be like dad; like grandpa. I'm going to become a Paladin and I will join the Knights of the Silver Hand and dammit, I will be the best!" he exclaimed as he threw his brush against the barn wall. Veikko stared at him. He'd never seen Malvakai so animated. He stood there as Malvakai gathered his riding equipment and started saddling up his horse. Veikko silently began helping him finish the task and stood back as Malvakai hopped up into the saddle. "Tell Mom and Dad I love them. Give Melani a kiss for me. I'm going to ride to Lordaeron and meet up with Prince Arthas. We are going to practice a little before we begin our training. I heard a dwarf has been teaching him, as well as Prince Wrynn from Stormwind. I want to see how well his form has improved since the last time I beat him down," Malvakai said with a smile as he steered Aetherwind out of the barn. Veikko followed Mal out to the main path. When they arrived, Veikko turned to his brother and reached up to grasp his arm. Malvakai returned the motion. Veikko's eyes began to well up with tears, but he held fast his resolve. He knew this was no time for weakness, no time for sadness. His brother was going on to his destiny, and Veikko would be following behind soon enough. "I love you, Veikko. I will see you in just a few years. Nothing can stop us now. Besides, who could? We are brothers. We always have each other's backs." Veikko nodded and Malvakai kicked Aetherwind into a full gallop down the road. As he watched Mal disappear into the wilderness, Veikko thought briefly to himself, "No one will stop us. They can't, Mal. We are brothers."

Veikko made his way back to the house, trudging through the increasingly deep snow. He was ready for his chance. He would make his family proud; his brother proud. In three years, Veikko would begin his journey to knighthood and earn his place in the Knights of the Silver Hand. Both he and his brother were already well known across the northern Alliance territories for their fighting prowess, especially when fighting as a team. Together, the thought, they were an unconquerable force. As he approached the door, lost in thought, Melani darted from inside and tackled him into the snow. Veikko laughed for a moment and sat up from his spot in the snow. He gazed around, a little shaken up, and brushed the wet flakes from his long black hair. Melani was already halfway across the yard, making a snowdwarf. Veikko stood up and smiled as he brushed the ice from his clothes. In a few years, he would begin his journey, yes, but until then, he was going to enjoy what life had to offer here at their small farm on the outskirts of the Alterac Mountains.


End file.
